The Land You Promised Us
by Spindleshanking
Summary: The Mayor wakes up in Storybrooke only to discover she is married to Mr Gold because, as far as the Curse is concerned, love and hate are really just two sides of the same coin. It also enjoys a good trolling. [AU]
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Alright. Since people here actually seem to like my Regina/Gold stuff, I'm cross posting this last fic. Y'know, one more you can hold me accountable for while I try to juggle multiple stories. Anyway, I envision this story will ultimately descend into a dark comedy of mutual domestic abuse à la Punch and Judy. That shouldn't really be a spoiler considering how they treat each other to begin with. So heads up.

* * *

Purple smoke whirled around the royal nursery in a maelstrom of increasing intensity, thunder and lightning crackling and flashing as an evil queen leered over her stepchildren. The world was irrevocably collapsing iota by iota into nothing. The Curse ripped, tore, and devoured with mindless hunger. This was unnatural destruction of the highest degree; it should not be allowed to happen and yet it was. The land groaned in rumbling tones so low they could only be felt deep in the chest as though the fabric of every living creature resonated in sympathy. Everything was shaking. The windows exploded towards them, but instead of ripping through their skin, the shattered glass hung in the air like lethal stars, dangerous and beautiful. Time froze. Regina closed her eyes and the cloud hit in full force, enveloping everything in a cold, endless darkness.

When she opened them again, it felt like eternities had passed. A dark-draped window in a strange room met her gaze and she lay between silk bed clothes in a warm, soft bed, softer than any of the feather beds she had ever had at her palace. Sultry, thick air smelling of sleep filled her nostrils. Compared to the howling at the end of the world, everything was so suddenly quiet now, enough to make her ears ring. But whatever peace she felt then, it shattered as the ringing unexpectedly increased and a headache exploded behind her eyes.

Foreign memories wormed through her head as someone called Regina Mills began to crowd her brain, pushing and shoving, until she felt her skull would crack under the intolerable pressure. It felt so strange, so unnatural, so wrong. There simply wasn't room for two people in one head. Panic pricked at her stomach but she reassured herself that this was all part of the plan. All part of the Curse. She breathed through the discomfort and dug the heels of her palms into her eye sockets.

Fortunately, it didn't last long. The pain mounted to one last jagged peak, then released to a blessed light-headedness, as though her brain were sloshing about between her ears. Two senses of self were slowly congealing into one entity, the memories separate but apart, and not altogether unpleasant. Finally she could think again.

So there it was. She'd done it. She'd finally done it. She'd successfully enacted the Dark Curse. A sense of overwhelming... something glowed in her chest. Was it satisfaction? Yes, she decided after a moment of contemplation. Yes, it must be. Regina could not fight a grin, or else tears and laughter would spill out instead. Disappointment and regret were her more familiar companions, but she'd never felt satisfaction like this. Who knew it could be so warm, so brilliant, so consuming, so wonderful? All the years of sacrifice, all the years of pain and humiliation, found validation in this instant. She had won. She had finally won and there was nothing-absolutely nothing-anyone could do to reverse the course of events she had set forth. She wiped at her suddenly wet eyes. Everything had finally gone to plan. Tonight, for the first time since she could remember, she would rest easily.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind, Regina felt something shift on the other side of the bed, dislocating her train of thought. What in the name of the gods was that?

She rolled to her other side only to find herself staring directly into the sleeping face of Rumplestiltskin. Catching a strong whiff of musk and morning breath, she flinched back in surprise. Only this wasn't Rumplestiltskin, at least not anymore. Suspiciously human in the gray morning light creeping through the drapes, this was now Mr Gold; calm, peaceful, still, and curled in her expensive sheets without a visible care in the world. Oh, what fresh hell was this? At the very least she spied the black of his pajamas at his wrists and shoulders but this afforded far less relief than she had hoped.

Gold's eyes slid open without warning and nearly stopped her heart. He fixed her with a bleary, brown gaze that grew sharper with each passing second. Without appearing to notice her, he sat up and looked straight to the stately black clock on the fireplace mantle opposite the bed. Eight fifteen.

"There is a time and and place for subtlety, dear," he snapped, rubbing his face. "This wasn't it."

Regina failed to register his bait, staring instead at the thin band of gold that flashed around the fourth finger of his left hand. Was that a wedding band? It looked suspiciously like a wedding band. But it didn't seem Gold desired any kind of answer this morning. With a withering look, he retreated from the bed and shrugged into a dark silk robe, all in quick succession. Then he snatched up a black lacquered cane she'd not noticed resting against the headboard and limped from the room.

With heart sinking into her stomach, she glanced nervously to her own hand and, to her horror, found a not dissimilar ring in the exact same place. She tore it from her finger as though it had scalded her, only to notice the inside bore an inscription. In capitalized, small but bold sans-serif letters, it undeniably read "SOULMATES." No sooner had she read it, she flung it across the room with a hiss of rage. It cracked against the wall and clattered noisily on the hardwood floor.

That _bastard!_ What had he done this time? When Regina had gloated to Snow White about sending them all to a horrible place, she had meant every word of it. It was meant to make Snow and her little friends suffer for time and eternity while she and other like-minded individuals enjoyed a well-deserved happy ending, free from the interference of heroic busy bodies. But _this_-this was _not_ her happy ending.

So if this wasn't her happy ending, whose was it?

Ominously on cue, from behind the bathroom door across the hall, Regina heard the sound of the shower turning on, suggesting an answer that made her flesh crawl. If this was a joke, it was in extremely poor taste. This was not happening to her. After all that work, after all that sacrifice, this was _not happening to her_.

Mayor Regina Mills was scheduled to appear at the office in forty minutes, but the Evil Queen needed to scrub every inch of her skin until it bled before she could even begin to contemplate her new role in this world. And if Gold didn't hurry his ass up in there, she was not above flushing the toilet to expedite the process. In the meantime, she would burn her sheets.


	2. Chapter 2

Regina Mills-Gold was a domestic goddess, thank you very much. She'd never had the opportunity to spend any meaningful time in the kitchen before coming to Storybrooke; now she wondered if perhaps she'd found her true calling in life. The lamb roast was juicy and flavorful, young asparagus spears thin and tender, the rice moist and fluffy. And to complete the meal, an aged Pinot noir with apple turnovers for dessert. The presentation was masterful. It smelled divine.

All this and the most Gold could manage was a disinterested "hmm" as he picked through his greens and went straight for the wine, as though showing even the slightest sign of amazement for her work, let alone approval, would kill him.

"Something the matter?" she asked carefully, daring him to find fault.

"Hmm? Oh, no, I just don't care for lamb is all."

"Since when?"

"Since..." He appeared to give this some thought, then shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "Since forever." After sampling a bit of this and that like a fussy child, he defaulted to scrutinizing her crystal and flatware in a way that made Regina want to snatch everything from his hands.

"Well, I'm not making anything else for you."

"I don't recall asking you to, dear."

What had she done to deserve this? Certainly Regina was guilty of such atrocities as sending innocent children into a known child-eater's den and negotiating the murder of her own step-daughter, but frankly neither of those crimes warranted her current living arrangements with Rumplestiltskin. This constructed reality they now called home was intended to manufacture happy endings for people like them, not to punish them, and so the fact that these promises had yet to be fulfilled lead her to consider increasingly alarming prospects.

For example, they say that love and hate are two sides of the same coin and that only indifference is the true opposite of love. If Regina were the sort to accept responsibility for poor results—and she wasn't—then she might have conceded the possibility that intense emotion on both parties had resulted in this farce. After all, their relationship maundered through that savage no man's land existing between amour and animosity, defying definition and better judgment. Perhaps this had confused the Curse, which struggled to find an appropriate equivalent for it in this land. But she couldn't believe that for an instant. Save for the alterations she specifically requested, the magic had produced a perfect translation of their world to the next in all cases. Except this one.

So, far more likely was Rumplestiltskin falsely advertising the amount of power afforded to her by the Curse. In retrospect, she shouldn't be surprised. Since when had he ever fully disclosed anything to her?

Normally she would have confronted him about these issues but he was not available at the moment, nor would he be for the foreseeable future. All she had was Gold now and Gold was as likely to know about magic as he was their past lives.

She was confident of this fact, having tested him as casually and as often as she dared.

"The place is looking a bit dusty, Gold," she observed with a harder edge to her voice, watching his face carefully. "Perhaps we should hire a new girl."

Gold's expression completely devoid of pain, his lips pulled back in a disparaging smile. "After the catastrophe with the Boyd girl? Last I checked, you were a woman. Do it yourself."

Satisfied, the Mayor failed to dignify him with a response and offered a cold smile of her own instead. If that couldn't get a rise out of Rumplestiltskin, then nothing would.

The real question now was what else had he implanted in the Curse behind her back? What other unpleasant developments might he be responsible for?

* * *

Dinner ended when Gold excused himself and absconded to his office to do whatever it was he did in the evening. According to him, a woman's place was in the kitchen and so, alone, Regina cleared away the table, packed away the leftovers, and did the washing up. A part of her bristled at such unabashed misogyny, at the thought of anybody believing they could order her about like some scullery maid. He had long since lost that privilege. She was the Evil Queen, feared by all, ruler of many lands, desirable, powerful, and was no one's servant, least of all his. But another part of her let him get away with it because it maximized the chances of a permanent Gold-free zone. She would wash a few dishes if it ensured some privacy.

Had he wanted this to happen? This couldn't actually be Rumplestiltskin's happy ending, her bound to his existence, his bed, and essentially assuming the position of his housekeeper. Were this actually the case...

Regina stopped scrubbing a plate mid-stroke and steadied herself against the edge of the sink.

...That would mean the Dark Curse constituted the most elaborate, unscrupulous love letter ever conceived by man (or whatever Rumplestiltskin was). The idea was by turns stunning and too absurd to be believed, and yet... and yet, he'd always had a flair for the theatrical. What horrified her most was the realization that it was so outrageous and impossible it might very well be the truth. After all, from the day they'd met, she had always suspected him guilty of him wanting something more from her, something far less professional than their relationship entailed... But of course, no one could blame Rumplestiltskin for finally succumbing to her beauty and power-no matter how unaffected he pretend to be-which was a credit to his taste if anything, but... no.

No, she refused to believe this for two very good reasons.

First, if this legitimately was his happy ending and he loved her in any form, Rumplestiltskin would have averted indefinite amnesia to be with her. No one wants to be parted from their loved ones, no one wants to forget their loved ones. She knew this all too well. And secondly, wouldn't even Gold show some vestiges of affection?

No, nothing about this option made sense.

Relief surged through her and she resumed the washing up.

Tender, human feelings of a sort existed somewhere in his range of emotion. That much she knew because otherwise that girl, Belle, would have never returned if she hadn't seen something in him. If he hadn't been capable of love, it would not have been such a delight to see his soul rent and raw when she informed him of his true love's demise...

At that thought, Regina very nearly shattered a wine glass placed on the drying rack with more force than was strictly necessary. She stood there a moment, letting the feelings of doom and horror wash over her.

Oh, no, this wasn't a happy ending.

This was _better._

Why hadn't she seen it before? Oh, she'd walked right into that one, hadn't she. Rumplestiltskin suddenly appearing with a devastatingly powerful magical curse that would solve all her problems, coincidentally at hand? How much more of an idiot could she have been? She had been so blinded by anger and revenge she didn't even bother to think twice about it. Certainly it achieved her goal to thwart the happiness of Snow White and Prince Charming as promised, but it now denied her the pleasure of properly enjoying it because she was too occupied picking up after a man who treated her with the utmost inferiority, a man she couldn't rage at because he has no memory of what he'd done to her.

This was revenge, pure and simple, for sabotaging his love life.

_You'll never beat me._

This time she did shatter a wine glass.

Oh, she would endure this indignity. Rumplestiltskin was sorely mistaken if he thought this would break her spirit. She had born far worse. He would live to regret his manipulation. The stakes were higher than ever.

Regina's revenge was complete with Snow, for now. Now it was time to return her attention to an old project...

And it started with this kitchen.


End file.
